


Consequatur (alternatively titled ‘Nightmare In The Making’)

by Crazy_Comet_97



Series: Surfin' The Tube [7]
Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Unus Annus - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Gen, I need help, Implied Mpreg, Magical Artifacts, Mpreg, Work In Progress, bros before hoes, co-create before procreate?, it's day whatever of me in quarantine guys, or in this case, seriously, something like that, vids before kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23342149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_Comet_97/pseuds/Crazy_Comet_97
Summary: While filming one of Amy’s ideas for their Unus Annus channel, something honestly didn’t feel right about the balloons that they’d ordered for one of the bits. They didn’t know yet, but if you don’t double-check what you buy, you get more than you bargained for!
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Amy Nelson, Mika Midgett/Ethan Nestor
Series: Surfin' The Tube [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1481357
Comments: 11
Kudos: 34





	1. Sleep, Sleep Is Good

Ethan’s skin still felt tingly, even as he and Mark along with Amy started to clean up the mess they had made from filming the 'Recreating the Miracle of Childbirth’.

They also would have got Evan to help, but he had long taken off home since that morning when they shot the prequel to this video, which now himself would have to edit as well as the one they had just finished once he got home to Mika and Spencer that night.

“I hope that this red shit we used doesn’t stain the bathtub. It’s going to be a bitch for us to get out if it does.” Mark commented from the far side of the small room, where he was bagging the trash up into a green bag designated for the outside bin in a matter of moments.

Ethan just shrugged. “Well, you should have thought of that earlier, I thought that the balloons would stain the bottom for sure. After all, we sat in them. They were so slimy, just-urch.”

“I did think of it beforehand, dumbass.” Mark retorted back, but sighed. “Yeah, they were, but it's a giant ass balloon, man. It was most likely because we had our legs in the water. Or our whole bodies like we /weren’t/ supposed to.” He side-eyed Ethan intentionally.

“Hey! You gave no instruction on how it was going to go and anyway, I forgot, so sue me!”

“Come on, guys.” Amy (the holy voice of reason) chimed from her spot where she was disassembling the lights and other camera/media equipment. “There’s no need to fight. The video was good and even though I may regret giving you the idea after today, I’m sure your fans will not care about anything.”

“It depends on the video, but hopefully you’re right.” Ethan agreed, stretching as his shirtless form shone in the light from the hallway. “Speaking of videos, I’d better head home. I’ll take the SD card off you now Amy and just upload all the footage on my PC at home to start editing it before tomorrow’s shoot. I should be able to get up by midday or something.”

“Alright, but I’m trusting you on this one.” Amy handed the card over willingly, from the camera she had moments ago been holding up. “I’ll call you in the morning to see how far you’ve gotten. Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

“I’ll try not to.” Honestly, Ethan, despite everything being pretty low activity today (other than the tens machine making his stomach ache slightly for a period of 5 hours after they’d used it and maybe all the splashing and failing around they did in the tub) was rather exhausted and he could also see that Mark was in the same boat, struggling for that moment to stay completely awake as Ethan spoke. “Looks like your man is also going be sleeping early.”

‘Shut up…” Mark grumbled from his position at the side of the tub, shaking his head. “So what if I’m a little tired? Sometimes these videos take it out of you, man. I’m just getting old.”

“Well, old man-” Ethan joked as he pulled on his shirt again, chuckling as Mark made a rude gesture at him. “-us young men have to get some downtime before editing, so I’ll just say goodbye for now and see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow, asshole.” Mark said jokingly, chuckling himself as Ethan stuck his tongue out at him before moving downstairs to grab his stuff and car keys to go home.

Surprisingly, Ethan was bone-tired by the time he got back to his and Mika’s house, not even wanting dinner as he slowly ambled upstairs to take a shower and change into pajamas so he could start working on editing the two videos.

Of course, the first was already heavily edited by Mark, so he just had to add all the details and stuff to it (thumbnails, uploading and description) before he could personally start the editing on the second one.

They always took turns, so it was no big surprise that he felt slightly more awake once he went to his computer and uploaded everything, but he soon started to slip again and for some reason, just couldn’t stay awake long enough to do so.

Just barely managing to upload Mark’s video, he finally gave up and crawled into his and Mika’s bed, passing out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Unknowingly to him, during the night, he tossed and turned more than normal, but was so dead asleep he didn’t even notice. The only time he re-awoke, was when the sun was streaming in through the curtains and he could smell Mika making breakfast downstairs.

Groggy, he went to get up from where he was lying, but felt like his whole body had been pinned down by some external force. Plus, he was starving, almost feeling sick from how hungry he was and the feeling of needing to go to the toilet was becoming worse the longer he lied there trying to make sense of everything.

Groaning, he managed to swing himself into a sitting position, hands jamming into his back as he stood up to head to the bathroom. Geez, maybe he was the one getting old and not Mark. Shouldn’t have made that old man comment.

Moving slowly, he managed to get to the bathroom to lean over the sink, but when his hands reached down to find his penis in order to whip it out, he got a nasty shock that woke him right up, his hands having connected straight to different skin than the one on his john.

Looking down, he choked back a sudden scream, seeing his stomach was hugely distended, bulging out of his t-shirt that had ridden up to sit on it like a tube top, feeling like bowling balls were stacked on top of his organs, making his lungs have to work harder to give him oxygen as he was starting to freak out.

Looking at it in the mirror, his lips trembled as he saw how large it was, his hips and sides now littered with small and large pink marks from where his skin had stretched.

What the hell happened during the night while he was sleeping!?

On the verge of an anxiety attack, he readied his voice to call out to Mika downstairs, when he suddenly felt a jolt from within him that made him go still, shaky hand raising up to up the bottom of the bump gently, before another jolt as strong as the last came from in him again.

Holy fucking /shit/!

Legs shaking, Ethan thankfully fell onto the toilet behind him as both his hands came up to cup the bump, him observing he couldn’t even get his hands to come together over the whole thing, bellybutton sitting on top of the mound like a cherry on a sundae as the moving under the thin skin continued, lighter, but no less terrifying.

There was something actually /fucking/ inside of him.

Oh god, if he was like this, what about Mark?! And Amy!? Or Mika!?  
What would she think!? What would /any/ of them think!?  
Oh god and what about the video!? He hadn’t edited it yet!

He wanted to dwell on these thoughts, get them all out into the open and panic alone in the bathroom where it was safest right now so he could figure out how to tell Mika when his mobile started shrilly ringing from next to his side of the bed.

Nervously trying to pull the shirt down over his new appendage (and failing), he moved as quickly as he could in his condition to the nightstand and picked it up, thinking that it was Amy and pressing the green button to answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, Eth!” Ethan could sense almost immediately that there was something wrong with Mark’s voice the moment he started talking. It seemed winded, or at least, more winded than normal. Mark usually called him after his run with the dogs in the morning if Amy couldn’t, so he shouldn’t have been too surprised. “How are you feeling today?”

Swallowing, Ethan tried to come up with a response, only to stutter endlessly before managing to push out an “A little unwell, but not bad. What about you?”

Ethan could hear Mark’s breath hitch a little, the noise noticeable as he also seemed to be not able to find the words to speak. “I’m...I don't know right now. Listen, can you come in early at all, to the house? Amy’s leaving us to filming today and having a day out on her own running some errands and I wanted to discuss ideas with you for today’s video.”

Oh shit, how would he explain this to Mark?!

It’s not like Mark /wouldn’t/ notice how skinny he once was had distinctly changed overnight.

“Uh…uh, sure, yeah I can do...that.” Ethan mumbled nervously, shaking his head even though Mark couldn’t see it. “I can be there in 20, if you want. Need me to bring anything?”

“Ugh-” Ethan could hear Mark’s groan as he obviously did something he shouldn’t have, hearing him whistle out a few long breaths before speaking again. “No, no, I was just going to order Postmates or something when you got here, if you're hungry.”

Oh god, he was starving and his body reminded him of this fact as soon as Mark mentioned it, feeling a growl and grumble from within his body, a few kicks (they had to be, he’d never felt anything like it before) accompanying it in protest. Seems whatever had taken up residence inside of his body was starving too. “Mika’s cooking breakfast, I’ll just get her to pack it up and bring some over with me. Is that cool?”

“Oh, that’s even better. No, totally cool. I’ll take whatever right now, I’m starving.”

Ethan made a conformational noise, while his head was spiraling. Mark, for the most part, sounded almost like him right now. Could it be that he was also…? No, no way.

“Sure, I’ll just go downstairs and head out. I’ll see you in a couple.”

“Yeah, see you in a couple.” The sound of beeping tone in his ear brought him back to reality as he swallowed, looking down at the bump forlornly. “Looks like I need to find something to cover you up for a while so I can figure out what’s going on here.”


	2. Collective Fever Dream?

It took him almost 20 minutes (plus another five if he was honest to get the SD card out from the computer as well, the pressure in his stomach from his knees pressing into it a new and slightly painful feeling) to find something in his wardrobe that could fit.

Eventually, after an endless search, he ended up having to jam himself into the loosest t-shirt he owned (which still showed a large strip of his lower belly) and a pair of jeans that barely fit (they were squeezing so hard he wanted just to tear them back off again) before donning his jacket to cover the rest and attempting to get downstairs.

It was a chore (as he couldn’t see his feet anymore), but he managed by the skin of his big toe not to fall head over heels and made it to the bottom having only stepped on his foot once.

Muttering some excuse about Mark wanting him to come in early to test their item for the next video. Pregnancy suits-” He had lied, the idea just appearing on the spot. “Wanted to get all the use out of Amy’s idea we could for content, you know?”

Thankfully, Mika seemed to take the excuse in her stride, leaving a kiss on his cheek and his arms laden with containers as he (and Spencer, since Mika had to go to work and he would be a good distraction for both Henry and Chica) somehow made it out the door in one piece.

Despite having to adjust his seat (and wiggle a little during the ride through LA traffic as the baby [yes, he was calling it a baby for now] shifted endlessly during the whole trip), the ride to Mark’s was quite smooth, despite being so nerve-racking, the driveway empty of Amy’s own car upon him arriving and swinging carefully into place, having managed to get closer to the front door as not to let anyone see him in the way that he was.

If there was any reason to turn him into a science experiment, it was this one.

Taking Spencer’s lead in one hand and balancing the containers in the other, Ethan carefully managed the few steps up to the door and pressed the doorbell, hearing it ring out through the house before footsteps signaled the dogs at the door, a much slower, louder set following them soon after, before the door opened a crack and Ethan’s jaw dropped.

Mark looked /haggard/, his friend looking like he hadn’t slept at all the previous night, dark circles under his eyes and a shaky, pale appearance that was slightly tinged with green.

Blue-green eyes meeting brown, both gave a look over each other that ended where their stomachs seemed to sit. Ethan’s, once unnoticeable, was now framed by the jacket, his arms having been in the right position for it to do so, the look on his friend’s face shocked before he lunged for the containers, shaky. “Get inside, now.”

Ethan didn’t have to be told twice, stumbling into the entryway as Mark closed the door on them, groaning as he bent down to unhitch Spencer from his lead and letting him run off with Chica and Henry to play, an arm holding his stomach as he carefully got up to take off his jacket and hang it on the rack nearby, feeling his joints rubbing together as he pressed his hands to his back again like before.

“Jesus Ethan, you’re fucking huge.”

Turning to Mark, he could help but let out a rather surprised noise, nodding.

As expected, Mark was in the same predicament he was, stomach as round as his own, only his seemed slightly more compact on his body, taking more of an oval shape than a sphere one like his seemed to be. Mark’s was barely covered over by a rather taut white shirt, the fabric looking like he had just jammed himself into it. “Yeah, so it seems.”

“How in the fuck did this happen?” Mark also seemed panicked, but seemingly less than Ethan had been earlier at home. “Was Mika affected?”

“No, I saw her this morning, she was fine.” Ethan shook his head. “What about Amy?”

“Same as usual. Thankfully I pretended to be feeling unwell so I wouldn’t have to get out of bed and she would see me like this.”

“Fair call.” Ethan bit his lip. “Look, I don’t know what’s happening right now or if this is some...collective fever dream we’re having, but I might have told Mika that we were wearing pregnancy suits for our video today, since...well, it doesn’t look like we can do much else.”

“Huh.” Mark frowned for a minute, eyebrows raised. “Shit, I didn’t even think of that.”

“Yeah, I figured. I just barely had my shit together when I left the house, so I had to come up with something in case Mika asked why the hell I’m like a thousand pounds heavier.”

“Well, at least I have something to tell Amy once she gets home, if this doesn’t resolve itself by then-ugh!” Mark suddenly doubled over, large hand finding a spot on his stomach as he groaned. “Ow...god, this is getting old fast.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Ethan nodded in sympathy. “I’m starving right now, so mine’s been annoying me all morning too. You want something to eat before it gets cold?”

“Nothing would make me happier than eating anything right now.” Mark’s mouth had been watering at the sight of the containers Ethan had brought. “I can cheat off my normal schedule for one day. This is a pretty good excuse.”

About an hour later, after wolfing down /all/ of the containers Ethan brought with him (usually they only ate one or two for themselves and saved the rest, but they both were ravenous), both men were seated at the dining table, swallowing the last bits of food.

“That hit the spot, man.” Mark leaned back as best he could in his chair, a hand kneading the lower part of his gut, which now stuck out halfway from the bottom of his shirt like Ethan’s had previously that morning. Ethan just groaned back from his seat, shaking his head.

“Looks like I need a bigger shirt again, probably ate too much.” He sighed, looking down at where his stomach had overtaken and left his next shirt as another tube top. “You got anything I can wear for the time being?”

“Should do, need to find me something as well.” Easing out of his chair, he held a hand out for Ethan, who used it to his advantage to pull himself up, wobbling as his center of gravity had shifted again from such a large meal. “Thanks.”

“Better stay on your feet there partner. If you fall, your stomach might eat you.”

Ethan laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “Please don’t say that, I’m already having nightmares about what could be inside of us.”

Mark just nodded wordlessly, seeing Ethan was still quite shaken up, despite everything that had transpired moments ago. “Think you can handle the stairs?”

“I can try.” Was all he responded back, shrugging.

“Actually, no. You know what? I’ll go, you sit on the couch.” Mark pushed gently, looking at Ethan with more worry for him than himself. “Not to sound bad, bud, but you are /way/ bigger than me and I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

Ethan wanted to protest that he was fine, but Mark’s words were correct. Just looking at him and Mark back to back, you could see that Ethan’s newly formed stomach was /far/ larger than his friend’s seemed to be and honestly, sitting down again didn’t seem like such a bad idea all of a sudden. Sighing, Ethan just nodded, stretching his arms out only to rest them back on the bump again. “Yeah, alright. Give me a yell if you’re not okay, alright?”

“Will do.” Mark shooed him off as he groaned before braving the stairs, Ethan settling on the couch as he watched him, Mark’s arm slung under the heavy part of his gut as he disappeared, loud breathing still slightly hearable from downstairs.

There were a few small muffled thumps from upstairs as Ethan settled himself onto the squishy couch Mark and Amy owned in their home, almost feeling like he could close his eyes again.

He wasn’t aware he had till he felt Mark shaking him awake gently, the thing giving a kick of protest to back it up and making him wake instantly, bleary-eyed. “Wha-”

“Hey, sleepy head.” Mark just smiled at him tensely, dressed in another white shirt that seemed to hide all of his belly for the moment, still looking quite taut as he spoke. “Sorry to wake you, but I found you a shirt out of mine. Should fit, hopefully.”

“Oh, okay, cool.” Ethan mumbled, pulling the now strangling t-shirt off himself and taking the black one Mark handed him gratefully, letting him assist in putting it on. While it managed to cover nearly all his belly up, it still left a sliver of skin exposed, Ethan sighing in response to the hem not meeting his jeans. “Well, it’s the best we’re going to get it seems.”

“Yeah, looks like it.” Mark agreed, both of them looking at each other as they tried to figure out what to do next, before Ethan chimed in. “Can I use your computer in the office to work on yesterday's video and then, if we’re up for it, we can film today’s video? I fell asleep and forgot to finish it with the other one.”

“Yeah, sure. Actually, I’ll come with you and lie on the couch for a bit in there. Might not be the most comfortable thing at the moment with this...problem here-” He gestured to his stomach.

“-but I think it’s best we look after each other in case something happens, you know?”

“Yeah, no, I get it.” Ethan nodded nervously, going to his jacket in order to pull the SD card from it’s pocket and then moving in the direction of Mark’s office, Mark slowly overtaking him by a little bit as he flopped (or attempted to flop) onto the small gray couch in there while he sat slowly, one hand on his aching back as he settled into Mark’s chair, pressure biting at his hips and making him feel like his lungs or whole torso would explode any moment.

He had to push through it though, for the fans. Whatever had happened to them, they had to carry on like business was as usual and not like they were currently housing what most likely was demons inside them. Maybe.


	3. 15 Minutes is Best?

For almost 2 whole hours, the boys managed to slowly ignore the tumbling inside them (that was a lie, Ethan had been breathing slow and rubbing large stripes down his side with his free hand about an hour in and Mark was lying on his back despite not being able to breathe properly as his stomach towered over him and poking fingers into his flesh, a noise always escaping when he felt something poke him back) and tried their best to focus on what they had assigned themselves to doing.

Of course, given their conditions, this “important editing work” was mostly Mark checking Ethan’s editing work from the couch as best as he could before giving an affirmative or negative comment and going back to his phone games as Ethan continued with finishing and uploading their last video.

Once the video was uploaded successfully and live, Ethan swiveled in the chair with a groan, the pressure on his lower half having somehow become more intense in the last 30 minutes or so as he called out. ”Hey Mark?”

“Yeah?” Mark pushed himself up regrettably into a sitting position, stomach straining against the white of his shirt once again.

“Video’s done.” Ethan rubbed his eyes, still wanting to just lie down and call it a day.

“Sweet.” Mark nodded, eyes closed. “We’ll need to set up the camera, pretend we’re in suits, film a bunch of skits and look like we aren’t dying so we can get today’s video out of the way. We’ll make it a short one so that we can rest after, I think. The fans won’t mind.”

“Yeah, I think 10 to 15 minutes is best.” Ethan honestly didn’t even know if he could last that long right now, but he was willing to pretend to be in order to make their audience laugh.

“Wish it was less than that, but you’re right.” Mark used the arm of the couch to push himself up, but only managing to fall back down again. A number of tries later (Ethan swore it was 4 or 5, but Mark vehemently insisted it was only 2 tries and no more than that), he managed to stay up on his feet, Ethan following suit, using the back of the computer chair as a handhold, able to stand in one try even if his stomach was decidedly the biggest of the two.

After muttering something passive aggressive about ‘being lucky’, Mark moved into the living room where Amy had left the equipment for shooting from last night, about to toss Ethan the camera and everything like normal before remembering he was in the same state as him and instead, carefully passing the equipment back and forth between each other till it was mostly assembled and set up in the right corner of the place, waiting for use.

That ‘15 minutes’ proposed by Ethan soon turned into 1 hour, then 2 and then, unfortunately for both, turned into 3 hours of doing random shit to condense into one video. They mostly stuck to what they had been doing before, as they were both already exhausted, pasting smiles on their faces and cracking jokes as they attempted to walk the dogs, tidy the house, go upstairs and so on.

Eventually, after checking and rechecking their footage to find a suitable (or any point, please god) to wrap up the video, everything came to a head as Mark, finally spent and in the middle of the final skit (mostly them who was better at taking care of chores while pregnant), came crashing down on his knees, the wash basket he had been holding on it’s side, pain flooding his senses and hands wrapped around his abdomen.

Ethan, thinking that it was for the outro of the video, pretended to freak out and make out like the baby was coming (Mark’s groans helped) before ambling slowly over to the camera and switching it off, sagging as his whole body protested. “Oh my god. Thank god that’s over.”

However, when he turned to Mark after not hearing a response, his friend was curled up around himself still, belly practically touching the ground, cheeks flush and whimpering, tears streaking down his face.

“Mark?” Ethan called, concerned, moving as fast as his own body could take him to his side.

Keeling down as best he could despite his hips feeling like they would split in half, he quickly grabbed Mark’s shoulder and shook him, calling his name several times before a gasp of breath came from the older man as he fell on his side, panting.

“Jesus, Mark, are you alright?” Ethan was suitably freaked out as Mark attempted to get up before he looked up at him, scared and still trying to breathe, face white.

“I don’t-I don't think so.” He said in a small voice, but it was obvious he wasn’t okay.

Stupid question Ethan, you idiot.

“W-What is it? Is it…?” He didn’t want to call it a baby, not in front of Mark of course.

While he himself thought earlier that it might be one, he wasn’t sure Mark felt the same about that, so he tried to cater for both himself and Mark in case.

“I don’t know, everything just hurts.” Mark panted, before he suddenly let out a noise similar to a squeak, eyes wide. Ethan was about to ask again what was wrong, but soon saw Mark’s jeans had a dark stain growing on them, the light fabric becoming dark as it soaked up whatever was making them damp.

At first, Ethan thought maybe Mark had been holding in the need to pee for a while to finish the video and the pressure from whatever was living inside of them had just forced his hand.

Obviously that was embarrassing, but this seemed like a lot more than just urine.

The slow realization of what was happening suddenly dawned on him as he looked at Mark, who was looking back at him, terrified. “Mark...I…”

“What?” Mark let out quietly, swallowing hard as he felt the cold seep into where he could only guess he wet himself at this point, shame flooding in. “What is it?”

“I think that…that was your water, Mark.” Ethan looked at him, just as terrified.

“I think you just went into fucking labor in your own living room.”

**Author's Note:**

> Damn these idiots giving me more ideas. I swear- *takes a pretend cigarette drag like a detective would in a crime show/noir film*, this channel is going to kill me long before it’s over.


End file.
